


du hast mich gefragt und ich hab nichts gesagt

by moon_waves



Category: Rammstein
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Sehnsucht Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_waves/pseuds/moon_waves
Summary: “You should be sight-seeing with the guys, not playing nurse with me,” Ollie mumbled without any conviction, eyes locked onto his fingers, trying to get his hands under control so as not to give away his nervousness.





	du hast mich gefragt und ich hab nichts gesagt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arrestzelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrestzelle/gifts).

> Written for the fluff prompt n°19: “I just want to take care of you.”
> 
> I hope you'll like it darling!

> **19 – “I just want to take care of you.”**

_May 1999._

Ollie painstakingly opened a bleary eye before looking at the figure standing in front of him, head pounding. His throat was well over being dry and he painfully swallowed, licking his lips in an effort to feel a bit less like he had spent the last twenty-four hours walking in the Sahara.

“Water,” he mumbled in a raspy voice before starting to cough, the strain intense enough on his lungs that it made him shiver.

He felt more than he saw Paul rushing towards him before grabbing him by the shoulders and helping him lie down on the pillows that were cushioning his bed. The guitarist’s hands were cold and it felt like a blessing on his burning skin, soothing the pain that kept flaming every time a cough wrecked his body.

It seemed like an eternity went by before he stopped coughing but it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, at worst, when he finally regained control of his breathing. He let himself fall down on his pillows, closing his eyes for a brief moment as Paul’s hands disappeared from his skin. He almost whined at the loss – or maybe he really did whine, he wasn’t exactly of what was happening in his mind and what was real – but it wasn’t for long, as a glass of water was soon pushed against his lips.

The water was deliciously fresh and he almost choked while drinking too fast, Paul’s hand steadying his grip on the glass. It was empty too soon, gone from his hand, and he whined again at the loss before feeling the bed dip a little next to him. 

He opened his eyes with an effort, waiting for his sight to focus before the room cleared up in front of him. Paul was sitting next to him, a worried look on his face, hands held tight in his lap. Ollie stared at him with tired eyes, the fog in his mind making it difficult to think about his next words.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” he finally said in a raspy voice, head still buzzing.

Paul’s eyebrows went really high on his forehead before he frowned, hands already moving towards him before one grabbed him by the shoulder and the other went to rest on his forehead. The cool touch felt really nice on his burning skin and he sighed softly at the contact, contently closing his eyes for a few seconds.

Paul tutted.

“You’re still running hot,” he whispered before sitting down again, a lot closer this time, his hands still resting comfortably on Ollie’s skin. 

That was nice – nicer than it had any right to be, and he tried not to blush at the sensation, feeling more contented than he ought to at the contact.

The guitarist seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before rising up, hands leaving a ghostly presence behind them.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quietly before disappearing into the bathroom adjacent.

Ollie barely had the time to react and he blinked slowly, trying to get a sense of what was happening. His mind was still fuzzy and his memories were slow to come back to him. He spotted his suitcase lying in one corner of the hotel room, half-plunged into darkness.

Right. They were traveling through South America and he had managed to get a bad sunburn – and maybe even a sunstroke, with his luck – after the first really _hot_ sunny days of the spring. Typical of him – but at least Paul was there to take care of him, and he blushed a little at the idea, a bit too happy about it.

A sliver of sun was peeking through the curtains, hitting the plush carpet just so that he could see dust dancing in the air. Fascinated, he kept looking at the spectacle, not paying any more attention to what was happening around him. 

He almost jumped when a cool towel went to rest on his forehead. The sound that escaped him would have embarrassed him in other circumstances, but he didn’t even notice this time, attention torn from the dancing dust to go back to Paul, who was trying to get him to move a little over the pillows.

His movements were sluggish and he felt more like a hindrance than a help before Paul managed to get him in the intended position, half–sitting and half–lying over the pillows, the wet towel draped over his forehead. It felt nice and he hummed quietly, even more satisfied with the arrangement when Paul resumed his former position, sitting close enough to him that the guitarist’s thigh was resting against his own.

“Sunstrokes aren’t contagious, Ollie,” Paul said quietly before putting one hand on his arm, thumb brushing across the skin. “I’m not going to get sick taking care of you.”

“You don’t know that,” Ollie mumbled in a raspy voice before licking his lips again, not quite thinking straight – his words didn’t make any sense, even to him in his half-feverish state.

He didn’t even have the time to ask for more water before the glass was pushed against his lips again. He took his time to drink this time, savoring the coolness on his tongue and down his throat, eyes half-closed in contentment. 

This time one finger brushed against his cheek when the glass left his lips and he opened his eyes again, following Paul as he put it back on the nightstand before settling onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his movements.

“I know enough about medicine to be sure that sunstrokes aren’t contagious, Ollie,” Paul said quietly, staring at him with thoughtful eyes.

Ollie felt himself blush a little under his gaze and blamed the change of color of his skin onto the sunstroke. It was bad enough that his feelings – that he had managed to keep under control for so long – had broken free over the past few months, but to be the sole target of Paul’s intense focus...

Well, that was more than he could handle, and he looked away, feeling the blush spread on his ears.

Damn his pale complexion – and damn that stupid sunstroke, too.

“You should be sight-seeing with the guys, not playing nurse with me,” he mumbled without any conviction, eyes locked onto his fingers, trying to get his hands under control so as not to give away his nervousness.

His mind felt a lot clearer now that he had drunk enough, and he half-regretted his former feverish state – how could he blame any stupid action on his fever now? 

“I like taking care of you,” Paul said calmly before moving to hold his hands, effectively getting him to stay still. “Besides,” he added with a little smile, thumbs brushing over his hands as if it was a regular occurrence and not something Ollie rarely let himself indulge into dreaming about, “Scholle can’t exactly jump around with that bad knee of his, now. Till is keeping him company – he is the only one who can put up with his bad mood right now,” he added almost as an afterthought.

The corner of his mouth twitched a little and Ollie felt his heart miss a beat at the view.

It was so _unfair_ – having Paul sitting so close to him, playing with his hands as if it was totally normal between _friends_, when he wanted nothing more than to bend down and kiss him…

“Scholle is hurting pretty bad even with the painkillers,” Ollie objected after a moment of silence that almost went too long. “Everybody gets snappy when they’re in pain.”

Thumbs stopped brushing over his skin for a brief moment. He wasn’t sure where from came this urge to take Richard’s defense – maybe from those years they had spent as roommates with Doom, during which he had seen him pine away for much too long. 

Paul didn’t seem to mind the contradiction and chuckled quietly, thumbs resuming their slow movement over his hands.

“Except for Till,” he said with a little laugh, something flashing across his eyes.

“Except for Till,” Ollie nodded quietly.

They briefly stared at each other before looking away, chuckles quickly dying out. A strange tension had grown into the room and Ollie wondered where it was coming from – or how to get it to disappear. 

He didn’t want Paul to leave, but he didn’t want for the mood to remain the same. It had been much nicer when he had woken up, being taken care of by the guitarist...

A light suddenly went on in his mind – and he blamed his slowness on his sunstroke. He usually was quicker to notice that kind of slip-up…

“What do you mean, you like taking care of me?” he asked after a moment, slightly tilting his head to the side, curiosity all over his face.

Paul’s fingers stilled over his hands for a brief moment and Ollie wondered if this was really a blush creeping up his face or if it was just wishful thinking on his part. The guitarist stared at their hands entwined in silence, absentmindedly licking his lips – and Ollie followed the gesture with hungry eyes, suddenly wishing for nothing more than to be kissing him, the urge almost strong enough to overwhelm him.

His words hovered between them before Paul finally looked at him again, something almost defiant in his eyes. 

There was a shift in the atmosphere as he opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s pretty clear to me,” Paul said in a firm voice, tone much calmer than Ollie currently felt.

His heart was racing like a wild horse in his ribcage, and he felt his blush come back with a vengeance as Paul started to draw circles over his hands with his thumbs again, still staring at him with that piercing gaze of his.

“I like taking care of you, I like spending time with you and I like making sure you have everything that you need, and everything that you want. I like making sure you’re happy, Ollie. And I want to keep doing that.”

He spoke as if it was the simplest thing in the world – as if Ollie’s world wasn’t on the verge of shifting on its axis, blood beating in his temples.

“You’re my friend, too,” he mumbled, before closing his eyes in mortification, not believing the words that had just come out of his mouth.

He had been offered an opportunity to come clear with his feelings on a golden plate and he had just thrown it away – what kind of idiot was it, seriously? He really deserved to keep pining from afar, considering how much of a dumb coward he could be...

He heard a chuckle escape Paul and he closed his eyes, biting his lip as the guitarist let go of his hands. He felt really cold all of a sudden, sunstroke be damned, and was on the verge from falling into a deep pit of self-hatred when two hands came to cup his cheeks, the gesture forcing him to open his eyes and look up.

Paul had shifted even closer on the bed and was looking at with a fond expression on his face, eyes twinkling. Their faces were very close from each other now, noses almost brushing, and Ollie could count the freckles on his skin.

“You and I both know this isn’t what I meant,” Paul said simply before moving to kiss him, mouth pressing firmly against his lips.

Ollie felt his heart explode into a swarm of butterflies and he moaned a little at the contact, eyes closing under the intensity of the touch. His hands moved of their own volition to hold onto Paul’s wrists and he lost himself into the kiss, not even minding the little chuckle that came from Paul. 

They kissed slowly at first before he tentatively opened his mouth, not missing the sound of appreciation that came out of Paul as the kiss deepened. It felt like a never-ending moment stolen in time, and he quickly forgot everything that wasn’t the new sensations he was experimenting.

They separated too soon for his liking and he whined a little at the loss before opening his eyes, feeling his face get on fire under the heated gaze of the guitarist. Paul was hungrily staring at him, but there was still a fond twinkle in his eyes, and the guitarist gently brushed his cheeks before moving to lightly kiss the top of Ollie’s nose. He finally let go of Ollie’s face and let their hands fall onto the bassist’s lap, intertwining their fingers together, a small, private smile on his lips.

Ollie stared at him, at a loss for words, and half-wondering if this was a dream made up by his feverish mind.

If it was so, it was a really nice one – but waking up was going to break his heart.

“Is this really happening?” he blurted out, feeling his blush intensify when Paul chuckled slightly.

“I promise you it is,” the guitarist said before moving and tipping his head to kiss him again, a quick press of the lips that definitely left Ollie knowing his skin had gone well over being crimson red.

Paul sat down and squeezed their fingers together, and Ollie relaxed a little at the small gesture. He was still unnerved and half-wondering if he hadn’t imagined it all, but he could never have come up with the fond expression on Paul’s face on his own, and it gave him the courage to go forward.

“I didn’t know _this_,” and his eyes briefly dropped to their intertwined hands before raising back to Paul’s gaze, “was mutual”.

His voice was soft and slightly hesitant, and he felt more than he heard the shift in position as the guitarist settled closer to him, almost sitting on his lap.

“I know,” Paul said simply before cupping his cheek with one hand, his touch as gentle as if he was holding a spooked animal. “You’re too shy for your own good, Ollie.”

He paused for a few seconds, eyes twinkling before chuckling again and moving to kiss him gently.

“Flake was right when he said I had to make the first move,” he whispered against his lips, one hand safely secured between Ollie’s while the other was still cupping his cheek.

Ollie wondered when his blush was going to stop deepening.

“Because you talked about it with him?” he asked in a strangled voice.

Paul shrugged.

“You know how he feels about people pining after their bandmates,” he said simply, Ollie missing the amused smile on the guitarist’ face as he closed his eyes in mortification. “He and Doom both, by the way. Apparently, us dancing around each other since _Sehnsucht_ came out stopped being funny after a few months.”

He couldn’t believe his feelings had been so obvious – and to think he had believed his secret to be safe for so long!

“They’re used to worst,” Ollie mumbled with a pout, smiling to himself when Paul laughed at his words before kissing him again.

It felt _really_ nice and Ollie was quickly becoming addicted to it, tugging onto Paul’s waist to get him to come closer. The guitarist went easily enough, obviously satisfied that his enthusiasm had caught, something akin to a giggle escaping him every now and then.

Things would probably have gone further had Paul not put his hand on Ollie’s shoulder for support, the contact making the bassist hiss and flinch as his sunburn reminded itself to him.

“Shit,” Paul mumbled before sitting back abruptly on the bed, a guilty expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Ollie. Are you okay?”

“It’s fine,” Ollie said, not quite able to hide his grimace.

His shoulders sagged a little as Paul reached for the glass and the bottle of iced water – where the last ice-cube was slowly disappearing – on the nightstand, pouring him another glass before handing it over to him.

Ollie took it gratefully and sipped it quietly, enjoying the cool water almost as much as the kissing. His hurt body was starting to remind him he was still going through a bad case of sunburn with added sunstroke, and it was probably for the best they didn’t do anything more strenuous than kissing.

“Stay with me?” he asked quietly once he was done with the water, Paul wordlessly putting the glass back onto the nightstand.

“If you will have me,” the guitarist said simply before intertwining their fingers again.

“Anytime,” Ollie said softly before bringing Paul’s hand to his lips and kissing it, a bit amazed at the blush that suddenly covered Paul’s cheeks at the gesture.

The guitarist quickly settled down next to him after that, mindful not to press onto his sunburn or to cuddle too close – air conditioning could only get them so far, after all – and Ollie swiftly fell back to sleep after that, feeling a lot better now than when he had first woken up.

Getting to kiss Paul at his leisure was more than worth the case of sunstroke he had gotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always more than welcome :)
> 
> [tumblr](https://ghostlovesc0re.tumblr.com/).


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